Tag Archives: England

Coniston to Ambleside

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Keen observers will note that Ambleside isn’t anywhere near the Cumbria Way – I made a diversion late in the day via bus because there was no accommodation in Elterwater. But I shall begin at the beginning!

I had a mostly lovely day’s walking. When I set out from Coniston the sun was out, the birds were singing and I stopped far too frequently to take photos of the countryside and listen to fighter jets zoom overhead as I passed through Tarn How Wood. I watched one come up the valley, flying really low. Another classic Lakeland experience!

I met a group of ladies who were also doing the Cumbria Way and they goggled at my pack. They told me they were stopping at The Old Dungeon Ghyll, probably the most famous walkers’ pub in the Lakes (well, in my limited understanding) but I had a strong feeling I wouldn’t get that far that day, which turned out to be correct.

At some point I took a wrong turn. For most of the walk I had assiduously checked my map every five minutes but I walked through a field of adorable sheep and terrific views and I think I missed a turn.

I ended up heading back south towards Coniston Water instead of north to Tarn How. Fortunately I found a local in my wandering and he looked at my map and set me right and I wasn’t too far out of the way. I ended up walking through a beautiful forest and saying hello to a lady who was also off on a solo camping expedition, the only differences being that she was on a horse and also (I imagine) not suddenly filled with raging jealousy, like I was. Then I remembered that I’m allergic to horses so it’s probably just as well I didn’t try to mug her.

Eventually I made it through the forest and found public toilets, right after spending the previous hour wishing I could find one. How fortuitous! Also it turned out that Tarn How is a super popular spot that people can even get around in wheelchairs so it’s not surprising that there were public toilets. I was grateful anyhow, and walked around a corner of the lake. I’ve heard it described as one of the prettiest tarns in the Lake District. Personally I think it was ok, but maybe the weather wasn’t doing it justice and it didn’t really compare to the magnificence I’d walked through on the previous four days.

I talked to a man who bore a startling resemblance to his bulldog and we discussed dog training for a while then I headed off again, away from civilisation.

This was the bit where the rain started, and it didn’t stop for the rest of the walk. I decided to cut a section off and walk alongside the road for a bit. At one point I heard a loud ‘HELLO,’ and who should I see cycling past but the landlord of the Stan Laurel where I stayed in Ulverston. I literally know two people by face in this whole corner of England and I walk right by one. What are the chances?

I found that the combination of nice solid and flat road surface and rain really sped up my progress and I made it Elterwalter fairly early in the afternoon. I’d set off from Coniston at about 10 and got to Elterwater at about 2:30. I stopped at a fancy hotel, the Eltermere, for a rest stop and had a nice scone with jam and clotted cream, made even more pleasant by their open fire right next to me.

I looked up the accommodation nearby and realised Luke and I stayed at The Britannia in Elterwater last time we were here, but nowhere had rooms and the bus to Ambleside left in five minutes so the choice was made.

I ended up at The Queen’s Hotel, and it was much cheaper than The Sun, although also not quite as nice. I ended up sitting at the bar and chatting to the dour barman and the upbeat barmaid all evening. Well, when I say ‘all evening’ I mean until 7:30, when I went to bed to read and then was asleep by 8:30.

Travelling is tiring! Even though I’m not working I feel exhausted by the middle of every afternoon. Do you find this when you’re on holidays? Maybe I need to develop a coffee addiction so I can push through 🙂 .

A Day In Coniston

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The guidebook I bought for the Lake District years ago did not have nice things to say about Coniston. It basically implied it was a tiny mining village with little to offer. Times must have changed if property prices are any to go by.

One of the main intersections in Coniston.

Actually Coniston has a number of historic pubs, beautiful views, a useful range of shops and most of the accommodation, if booking.com is anything to go by, isn’t cheap. A lot of the houses in the village are built of stone and have that dark, brooding gravitas that slate lends to a place. I really like it.

I decided, on my one full day here, to go for a boat ride around the lake then go and look at Brantwood, the home of John Ruskin. The only other person staying at the pub is an American fellow who is an historian with an interest in John Ruskin so he told me a little at breakfast and then I ended up seeing him at Brantwood later in the day.

I walked down the hill to the lake and did a little Facebook live video while I waited for the boat and went for a walk. Being a teacher, I’m perfectly happy to drone on at length about nothing in particular, although I did find myself talking about socks and wondering if anyone was still listening. When I listened back to it I realised the wind noise was unbearable but lesson learned, I will do them indoors or on still days from now on.

I had meant to go on the steam boat but this was the only one there when I got to the dock.

I was the only passenger on the boat so I had a private tour and enjoyed asking lots of questions and getting a more personal insight into the area. We motored past the island that features in Swallows and Amazons, which is a series of children’s books and two movies and is apparently a big deal even though I hadn’t heard of it until I read my guide book. I have downloaded the first book though and will read it next.

The boat dropped me off at Brantwood, which is almost directly opposite Coniston on the other side of the lake. It’s a group of buildings where John Ruskin spent the last few decades of his life. He was a great thinker, writer, artist, poet… basically a Victorian renaissance man. He went mad in his later years and it sounded a lot like bi-polar to me. The video introduction, that the man at the front desk insisted we watch, was a bit odd. Apart from having weirdly dramatic synth music playing over the top, it completely neglected to mention any female or non-famous person’s presence in JR’s life. I came away wondering if he’d ever married, which of course was a tip-off that his relationship was scandalous and not entirely happy. The gift shop had lots of books on his wife and her achievements but I didn’t investigate. Really, I was here for the gardens and wallpaper.

He designed this wallpaper himself and JR was a big supporter of my favourite art movement, the Pre Raphaelites.

The inside of the house was lovely although insanely creaky. No creeping up on anyone here!

The views from from the windows were stunning in every direction. Forest on one side, lake on the other.

The grounds were supposed to have areas with distinct themes but mainly they were semi-wild with a few bluebells and ferns. From the dock to the buildings was better maintained but I dare say it’s one of those National Trust places where the income doesn’t really cover the upkeep of everything.

John Ruskin’s chair. Surprisingly comfortable in angle but I can only assume he took a cushion or two.

Several people had touted the cafe and it was indeed very nice. I had a carrot and honey soup. After the oversized breakfast at the hotel, soup seemed like a good choice on a cold and relatively sedate day.

All in all a very pleasant day where I learned, looked and listened. My feet and shoulders enjoyed the break and by evening I felt almost ready to tear myself away from the cloud-like comfort of my bed at The Sun. Onwards and upwards tomorrow!

Cumbria Way : Day 2

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Most people would walk to Coniston in their first day of TCW but I am a bit unfit and quite lazy so I decided to get there on day two. Also people in other blogs said the last few kilometres by Coniston Water are a real slog and I wanted to enjoy it.

I actually slept better than in the hostel in London. Nothing beats an absence of snoring. Nothing!

So I had a cold and small breakfast (having a huge Full English Breakfast before saddling up for a major walk seems like insanity to me, but it’s tradition here) of cheese and hummus on tortillas, then set off.

If I didn’t see many people yesterday, I could halve that number today. I saw literally no one, not a soul, for the first four hours. I have read that the Lake District can be heaving with tourists all year round but that hasn’t been my experience so far. Maybe I’m not in the busy part yet? Anyhow, I enjoyed the views and took my time.

The stream above was my last view before I climbed a hill to reach Beacon Tarn, my first proper geographic feature.

And still no one in sight.

I sat to dry out my map (I’d used it as a ground sheet the night before – it was a waterproof OS map. So useful!) and have a snack and look at the water. After twenty minutes I looked behind me and a bunch of sheep had snuck up and were giving me baleful looks.

I like sheep. They are quiet and easy to ignore. Not like cows! Anyhoo, right after Beacon Tarn the landscape really opened up and there was a fabulous vista across to the Langdales. Probably. Someone correct me if I’m wrong.

While the landscape was stunning it was also difficult to walk across. The path couldn’t decide whether or not it wanted to be a stream or a bog, and so in many places it was both.

The problem in the photo above isn’t actually the steam crossing, it’s the getting to and from – it’s all mud. I spent a lot of time walking back and forth at places like this, working out how to keep my feet dry. I succeeded though, so in your face, nature!

I will admit that the pack continued to weigh on me, and after about 10 km I got to a point where I was just bent over, dragging my walking poles like a cave man would drag his club and thinking tired thoughts. Fortunately I came to a stream that had a grassy bank, wildflowers and sun shine. It was time to sit down.

Over the next hill was Coniston Water and also phone reception. I took this stretch pretty easy, stopping to take photos, upload a few photos and rest every kilometre. My shoulders were getting very sore and dark clouds were rolling in.

Eventually I staggered into town and found The Sun Inn and a bunch of other walkers outside. I ended up sitting with them for a few hours then booking into the hotel when the rain started coming down in sheets.

I cannot tell you how good my pie and chips tasted. I might have even had a small tear in my eye at the fact that I was indoors by an open fire, I’d walked through stunning scenery and I had a comfy bed and my own private, indoor bathroom to use for the first time in nearly a week. In fact it was so good I booked two nights.

Marvellous!

Devon and Dorset

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We spent a morning exploring Lyme Regis in beautiful sunshine and ate delicious Devon pasties for lunch while sitting on a bench overlooking the beach. Delightful!

Lyme Regis has one of those quintessentially English beaches that are composed of enormous pebbles. The noise they make when you walk over them is extraordinary. The beach is lined with colourful bathing boxes in lovely pastel shades and there were many people out walking dogs and only one person in the water, which we’d been assured wasn’t ‘that cold’.

Looks like a comfy surface to sunbathe on. Not.

The town is full of stores selling designer clothes, art, food that’s practically art, and the words ‘organic’, ‘locally sourced’ and ‘ethically produced’ are more the norm than the exception. Life in the south west of England is appealing indeed.

Our first evening in town was stunning calm and clear – especially for October.

Lyme Regis by night.

The lamp posts in Lyme Regis celebrate its position on the ‘Jurassic Coast’, an amazing area where frequent landslides often uncover million year old fossils.

Mid afternoon we headed over to Axminster, home of one of the fabled River Cottage Canteens. We loitered in a pub with free wifi for a while then arrived a bit early for our booking.

First in the door!

Starters were cauliflower soup with an onion bhaji in the middle for me and Luke had a plate of fresh buffalo mozzarella with an arrabiata salsa on a naan. I’ve always thought mozzarella was too bland to eat raw but this dish was amazing. The bhaji in my soup was like a giant, crunchy, spicy crouton that was the perfect compliment.

Pork belly!

For mains I had pork belly, which was excellent, and Luke had a pumpkin and almond risotto with chilli and barley. I had bitter chocolate mousse for dessert and Luke had a cheese platter. If you ever have the chance I highly recommend eating there. It was amazing value for three courses (£20 pp), the flavours were complex and perfectly balanced and the staff were very friendly and helpful.

We had also learned that the second episode of the latest River Cottage series had been shot at the pub where we were staying so we’re super keen to see it next week.

Happy Halloween from Hugh!

The next morning we checked out of the hotel and headed to the seaside village of Beer. Because… Beer!

I’m a sucker for towns with funny names and Beer ticks that box. We bought some postcards (obviously) and some more delicious pasties and sat in the sunshine. Pasties and ginger beer seemed a very appropriate lunch to be having by the beach. Very Enid Blyton. No mysteries to solve, however, just lots of photographs of boats and chairs and then to the Beer beer garden overlooking the beach so Luke could have a beer.

The most fiery ginger beer we’ve ever had.

Like toy boats… but big!

Beer!

Our friend Jen, who lives in Bristol and who has featured several times in this blog previously, had carelessly issued an invitation to come stay any time. We decided a free bed and good company were not to be sniffed at, so our next stop: Bristol!

Bakewell

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Until Lucas, Matt and I took a drive through the countryside around Nottingham I thought that a ‘Bakewell tart’ was made by a company called ‘Bakewell’ because really, that would be an appropriate name for a company that makes pastries. Turns out it’s a place from which the eponymous delicacy originates. Lucas and I had one each and weren’t enormously impressed, but I’d certainly recommend the village as somewhere to visit if you want to see one of those perfectly picturesque English villages.

‘Lashings’ of cream were promised but not delivered. A veritable teaspoon, I say!

Having a Bakewell tart in Bakewell was something of a consolation after driving an hour through the rain to the enormous Chatsworth House in the hope of seeing something interesting that was out of the miserable weather and then finding it was nearly 20 pounds to get in. It was a real shame as there was a sculpture exhibition on in the gardens that would’ve been great to see if the weather has been better or we’d had golf umbrellas and gumboots. Still, the drive through the Derbyshire countryside was pretty (when the driving rain subsided) with the trees starting to show their Autumn colours.

I found a craft shop in Bakewell and bought some wool and needles to knit myself a Winter hat and successfully resisted buying a cross stitch kit or some beads (it was a mighty effort –  I’m addicted to craft supplies) then returned to Matt’s place where he cooked us a delicious roast dinner. The boys went to the pub and I stayed home and watched stuff on youtube and knitted for several hours. It was so nice to be by myself for the first time in a long time. Solitude is such a luxury!